Kneel Before Zoe! (A Quantum Tarot Part I)
Written by AuGoose :: [Monday, 04 May 2015 21:55] Last updated by :: [Wednesday, 29 May 2019 10:58]
Kneel Before Zoe!
(A Quantum Tarot Part 1)
By Au Goose
A work of Erotic Fiction (extremely hazardous in the workplace). Any resemblance to anything in the real world is too much to hope for. Clean up on aisle seven … and bring a mop.
She sat at the table. The starkness of the room was frightening. Shortly a thin man in a lab coat entered with a sheaf of folders tucked under his arm.
“Ms. Drew, I need you to answer me quickly and without consideration or contemplation.”
“I’m sorry, you are?”
“My name is not relevant. What is your age?” He launched into a series of questions, some probing, some almost nonsensical, getting her into the rhythm of snap responses. After a few minutes of this …
“What were you always meant to be?”
“Ambitious. But restrict your answers to this planet, please. What is your favorite animal?”
“Swans.” she blurted out.
He paused. Something he hadn’t done since they began. “A swan, Miss Drew?”
He made a note in one of the folders he still held close to his chest, never having spread them on the table. “And what do you see as a swan’s virtues?”
“Beauty. Flight. Strength. Grace. They are very strong, you know?” She smiled.
“I hadn’t considered it, honestly. But what’s important is that it calls to you. That it resonates. I believe you when you say it does.”
He stood up as if the interview were ending.
“Would you like to have these virtues yourself?”
“Who wouldn’t?” she answered seriously. Swans weren’t just beautiful to her, they were sexy. Soft and graceful but still strong, like she had said. Swan attacks could be fatal even to full grown adults. And to be able to fly? Who didn’t dream of such things?
“What if I told you we could do that for you? Increase your affinity for swans until you began to express some of these virtues yourself. Express them in more than human ways.”
“That would be fantastic. Where do I sign up?”
“You already have, Miss Drew. However, we would also need to take further steps to ensure your loyalty to the program …”
- - - - -
Five weeks later she’d passed their tests and even been advanced to ‘pre-candidate’ status. Dr. Ames, the man who had first quizzed her had spent about half an hour briefing a classroom with her and nine other pre-candidates. Some parts had been far too technical for her to follow. Others seemed like some kind of snake oil sales pitch – become your ideal. Assimilate your avatar. Buzzwords from a wholly alien skill set. It was a window into the world of cutting edge techno-espionage it seemed. She could get supernatural powers and all it would cost her was a life as an international secret agent. ‘Like that’s a downside’ she thought, sticking her tongue out a universe that clearly loved her.
Imbuement was a fairly new bit of quantum sorcery. The ‘candidate’ chose a totem, an animal that they felt represented the best features of their inner nature. Then they ‘quested’ to procure a token of that animal. The stronger the ritual connection, the greater the mojo when the token was dissolved by sympathetic field extractors and injected into the candidate. The principle of contagion bonded the energy to the candidate’s true name and voila: imbuement. A field agent with enhanced characteristics. Not the traits of the actual animal, but the folklore that surrounded them. Spiders become cunning masterminds, chameleons able to blend into any crowd, Bears exemplars of strength and durability. Lions were especially impressive. Zoe had chosen the swan as her totem. An untested totem, but one Ames was looking forward to exploring.
There wasn’t exactly a call for question & answer, but she raised her hand anyway. When he looked at her she pressed on as if it were an invitation, “So, you tap into the power of myth?”
He paused behind the podium, interested in discussing his work with such an eager listener. “That is an excellent description of the process. You won’t gain the biological features of your totem … you’ll take on its mythical aspects.”
“So I’m going to get the storybook powers of a swan?”
“We don’t generally share the nature of our totem with other candidates, but yes, exactly so. You should become more swan-like. If you are chosen.” He chose his words, reminding them all that they weren’t full candidates yet.
She pondered a moment, trying to frame a question that would impress him. “Why animals? So why not a heroic myth? Gilgamesh or Beowulf?”
“There’s no way to create such a token from such figures. Even with the power of science driving the process, the laws of sympathetic resonance are demanding. Blood and sacrifice are required. And a quest. If you graduate to a candidate slot, you’ll be sent out to gather a token. A piece of your animal. And though it is sad to say, that token will be more effective if your swan does not survive its harvest. Its virtues metaphysically released by death to be reaffixed to your true name by our apparatus.”
“So sympathy and contagion … with just a dash of necromancy.” She was starting to see why this was such a secretive program. The discovery of magical principles that could be enabled by massive computing power had lead to an arms race in the shadow games between nations. But necromancy … that was just dirty pool by any civilized standard. If this got out they wouldn’t just be shut down. They’d be terminated with apocalyptic prejudice. No wonder they were so cautious.
He sighed. “Yes, if you must go there. But we focus on the positive. There’s a tremendous volume of raw myth to draw on without any sort of human sacrifice. The memory of elephants. The strength and ferocity of bears. Even the sexual prowess of the thoroughbred stallion.”
“You’ve done this to guys who wanted to be ‘hung like a horse’?” She actually burst out laughing at that.
One man in the row in front of her squirmed as if he’d had an ice cube dropped in his shirt. ‘Horses … not known for their poker faces’ she thought while simultaneously making a mental note to look him up if he did graduate. Just to satisfy her scientific curiosity of course.
“Several. Its a noticeably common affinity. Women identify with horses too. Popular culture has a powerful effect on the mythic resonances. They call it ‘my little pony’ I believe. The results have been quite impressive. Though a few of their regular partners have indicated it can be a little … challenging … to satisfy their mate after the ritual.”
She pondered that a moment. “Maybe I should re-choose …”
“Not at all. Your totem is the product of a lifetime of experience. Trying to game the system tends to lead to tragic results.”
She smiled. He had no idea what myths she really admired. Craved really. And the way he described the tokens, she just might be able to pull it off …
- - - - -
Four months of briefings, tests, long talks about the limits and frontiers of the process, and one epic quest later …
“You’ve crafted your token?” Ames asked his star pupil in deep, formal tones. But his smile was warm and familiar. He’d researched swan folklore over the last few months. There were far more tales than he had expected. The Russians considered them powerful, lusty creatures. Even the god Zeus had taken the form of a swan to force himself on maidens that caught his wandering eye.
“I have.” She revealed a beautiful black feather, almost two feet long. There were black ribbons tied around the shaft in several places with delicate, complex bows. A strangely patterned fabric, gleaming oddly in the light. It was quite beautiful really.
“I thought it would be white …” Then he realized he’d allowed her pale, wispy hair to lead him to a false presumption.
“Oh no, I am definitely a black swan.” She smiled mischievously.
Dr. Ames took it gently, almost reverently and laid it in a wooden coffer made specifically for it. It would be taken and laid in the center of a nest of complex silver wiring, the resonance extractor diagram. “The ribbons are an elegant touch.”
“I’ll tell you about them after. They have a story too.”
“Good. Personalizing the token will increase the bonding ratio. I’m glad you’ve grasped how ritual enhances the technology. Few have the necessary flair to practice quantum sorcery. Out of your class, seven of you will be entering the circle. One of our best classes ever. I’m looking forward to a very satisfactory outcome tonight.”
“Me too doc. Me too.”
- - - - -
The tube was a tempered smart-glass laced with diamond filaments. Twenty inches thick, a rampaging tank would have bounced off of it. Perfectly suited to containing the supernatural meltdown that accompanied a bad soul-graft. So tough that even when a candidate did spectacularly self-destruct there was little more fuss required to clean up than getting out a high powered hose. It was also a reminder to the candidates that they were betting their lives tonight. That cylinder would be their tomb ever so briefly if they had chosen wrong or somehow befouled their token-quest. Professor Ames didn’t honestly know what all the possible failure conditions were, even after seven years of trial and error.
The night went on, in a cascade of energy and self-realization. After three successful rituals the fourth burned. And then the fifth. The shadowy Director Randal called a brief halt so everything could be rechecked, though Ames insisted that they should go on. He’d saved the best for last after all. When the 6th candidate, a horse-lord emerged triumphant and bulging with muscle (amongst other bulges …) the tide seemed to have turned. Zoe was called forth to take the place prepared for her.
She came out of the preparation chambers, freshly bathed and wearing an outfit that was almost overkill. Candidates chose their own costumes after rigorous coaching on literary nuance. Hers was both daunting and seductive. A high-cut black leotard covered her arms, shoulders, even neck, and formed a long triangle of sleek darkness tapering from her breasts to her crotch. Her sides, hips, long legs, and feet were wrapped in tight black fish netting. Hints of ballet dancer and something darker, fiercer.
“No shoes?” Randal asked, amused. The director of the secretive branch was present for the graduation ritual. He’d kept his distance during their training but would personally see to it each of them was whisked away to their first assignment as soon as the procedure ended. If they survived. Ames has chosen for Zoe to go last, being more confident in the symbolic resonance of her preparations than those of the rest of her class.
“Don’t need them when you can fly.” She answered brightly.
“Fair point” he agreed. She definitely had a positive outlook for what was about to happen. Sometimes that was the most important thing of all when meddling with magic: unyielding certainty that it would work.
She turned twisted and leaned forward showing him her bare back under her long blonde hair. “And room for my wings!”
“You know that even if the process gives you the power of flight – which is very rare by the way – you won’t sprout wings.”
“A girl can hope.” She laughed brightly, taking his arm and setting them both strolling towards the lab. All the pieces were in place.
- - - - -
Bamm … Bamm-bamm.
Randal strode over to the console where an operator was performing advanced percussive adjustment … that is to say whacking the hell out of his equipment. The Director had been pacing ever since number four had self-immolated. And not because she had chosen a phoenix for her totem.
“Glitch, sir. Power readings off the token are skewed. Readings have been getting higher and higher all night. Now that …” he waved at his console and the arcane script scrolling across it in real time “Is saying yonder feather is putting out almost a 45. It should be about a 7. Maybe as high as 9.”
“So its five times as strong as it should be?”
“Sorry. No, sir. The rating is logarithmic. Ames’s scale is like the Richter scale only with a finer grain. Adding ten multiplies the value by ten.”
Director Randal did some quick math – he wasn’t a quantum sorcery expert or even a scientist, but he certainly understood large numbers … “That would make the field about …” he flicked up a few fingers counting out the last multipliers, “about 4,000 times the normal maximum?”
Bamm! The technician slapped the side of the instrument stack again, seemingly without effect. “Exactly, sir.” respect for Randal’s mental slide-ruler obvious from his tone.
“Could the reading be … Correct?” He asked looking into the tube at the young woman already writhing in the swirling curls of quantum flux.
“Not a chance, sir. Anything above a 15 will pop every Vance/Ames capacitor in the building.”
“You’re sure then?”
“Absolutely. The most powerful augment we’ve ever created was class 12 and there was smoke everywhere from fried relays. A real 45 wouldn’t just smoke the system … it’d put a crater here about four miles deep. Bigger boom than all the nuclear tests in history put together.”
To think that one day they might wield such power! He knew taking this project off the books had been the right call. Even in its earliest stages, it was already proving its worth. The agents coming out of this lab were game changers, even the least of them … and Ames had spoken very highly of Miss Drew.
“Just a 3 is pretty amazing to see in action.” The tech went on, obviously pleased with the interest the director was showing in the technical aspects, and not considering the man he was talking to was the handler for all the successful graduates. “A class 25 would be pretty much godlike. 50 is more like God Almighty.”
“Forty-five …” Randal looked up at the tube with awe. Even if it was just a glitch now, someday they would maybe create a god in this very room. “Keep at it. Maybe with a tester instead of hitting it though.”
The tech grinned having already pulled out a multi-tool and a probe. “On it sir. Plenty of other monitors even if my station’s being persnickety.”
“Well keep an eye on it. This is the last one and I’d like to not have any more burn-ups.” Randal turned and continued his rounds before heading for the main dais where Ames was running the show.
“She’s responding very well …” Ames commented as his section leader approached.
“Yaa think?” Randal replied with a drawl.
They all watched intently as Zoe’s body continued to flux under the initial transfer of charge. Her breasts had immediately ballooned, now as large as cantaloupes. This, in turn, pulled up on the bottom of her high-cut leotard, highlighting her widening hips and magnificently rounded ass cheeks. It also pulled the bottom of the suit skin tight, hinting at the subtly growing lushness of her loins. She just smiled prettily at all of them like this was the most natural thing in the world. Serenely turning in circles within the tube so everyone got a good view. The sexy black swan so unconcerned with how she was affecting them all.
“Is she supposed to … to look that good?” Randal, asked, only slightly less stunned than the other men present. Zoe’s whole body was like something out of a dream. “A weapon of mass-seduction.” he mused aloud.
“Idealization of appearance is a known potentiality. It's quite common with fox totems. It seems a fitting virtue for our first swan. Though I would agree the candidate has already reached at least the 97th percentile of overt sexualization …”
“Well, swans are going to be downright popular after this.” Randal quipped, struggling to control his breathing. Zoe had been quite easy on the eyes when she had volunteered for the program. A tall, slender blonde, he’d recognized her attractiveness even as he’d recruited her from the larger agency for her potential as an empowered spy. She’d shown excellent markers for field assignment and HumInt gathering. In the past four minutes she moved on to striking and right past that to gorgeous. She’d be worthless as a low profile operative, but her potential as a honeypot was devastating. All that and her curvaceous figure was still ripening as the totem-field enveloped her. “She’s not stopping, doc. If she’s at the 97th percentile now, in another few minutes she’ll be sexy right off the charts.”
“Then we’ll have to make new charts. A fascinating prospect given the subject matter” Professor Ames gave a small smirk. He might be maintaining his professional demeanor as lord and master of the Agency’s quantum-enhancement program, but there was no question every man in the lab was fiercely aroused by the physical incarnation of sexual fantasy blooming in the central glass tank. “On the bright side outcomes like this can only help us recruit additional agents into the program. Male candidates have favored lions, bears … we’ve even seen two sharks. Zoe gives us an almost perfect example of a ‘soft’ avatar.”
As if she could hear their conversation, Zoe’s movements changed, becoming more sultry and seductive.
“Almost perfect? She’s still improving …” Laser mesh measurements showed she had grown four inches taller along with the six cup-sizes, yet her outfit remained perfectly form-hugging. “She’s got probably another eight to ten minutes of imprinting left to go and frankly she’s dangerously attractive now.” He pointed to where a lab tech was being given first aid after walking into an equipment rack. The was no doubt what had distracted him. Ok, there was some question … Was it the elfin beauty of her face, eyes half-lidded with desire that had sent him careening into the electrified equipment stack? Then there was the radiantly healthy skin without the slightest blemish. Or perhaps the classically perfect hourglass figure had held his eyes while he slammed into the monitors? Maybe he had been distracted by the raging hard-on in his pants throbbing in time to the grinding of her broad, womanly hips. Then there were the long shapely legs spread wide as the narrow tube allowed, toes pointed with pleasure. Zoe was certainly no ugly duckling now!
But since it was Chad, the lab’s most dedicated ‘breast man’, it was almost certain his accident had been brought on by staring at her tits. They’d been full and pleasant when she’d entered the tube but only moments after the procedure began Chad’s eyes had become locked on her body. Zoe’s back had arched at the exact angle to maximize her profile when his favorite of all womanly features began to expand under her leotard. A true connoisseur, he rated their perfect peach-like shape and meaty heft a righteous 11. Beyond perfect. Just as she had hoped, Zoe was becoming an adult fairy-tale cast in living flesh.
“Injection complete.” a tech announced. The mythic pattern of Zoe’s black swan totem had been fully released from her token and was now meshing with her true name, her soul as it were. The completely detached field was like a thick black cloud-streaked with blue strands of light. Normally they were thin, pale, almost invisible to the naked eye, but Zoe’s token had given up a storm cloud of potential thick enough to cast the tube into roiling darkness. Now they could only watch and hope that despite the several irregularities plaguing the procedure, nothing was seriously wrong. In fact, it all seemed to be going seriously right. She had certainly seemed to be enjoying it up to that point. Randal had only seen the foxes getting off on their own transformation with such intensity.
Ames threw a switch and pick-ups in the tube relayed Zoe’s cries over the room speakers: “Oh! Oh my. I can feel the energy, this presence all around me. It’s … touching me. It's touching my body. Like a caress. My neck, my lips … my breasts. No, not just touching me, it's feeling me up. Oh! It’s getting rougher and It wants me. Oh, it hurts! It wants IN me …!”
Suddenly Zoe was visible again, her bare back pressed against the curved glass as the storm-filled cylinder boiled. Her arms shot up and apart like her wrists were bound with blue-black ropes. Her clenched knees were wrenched apart, her thighs lifted even with her tantalizingly round ass-cheeks. Her dangling feet no longer touched the floor – she hung in mid-air five feet above the base of the tube pinned to the glass by an invisible lover. Her pelvis rhythmically compressing against the glass as the pattern-cloud hammered her crotch with terrible, bruising force. Her breasts shook and bobbled as unseen hands groped them violently.
“Oh gaaawd … It’s IN ME … Filling me! …How can I please …”
“Um, what kind of fucking swan does that …?” One of the techs asked the question that many of them were thinking with unintentional irony.
Randal was more than suspicious already. “I don’t know and I think not knowing just became a serious problem. Shut it down, Ames. Shut her down.”
Ames held up his hand, negating the command or at least delaying it. “No … Swans are the great rapists of myth. This is just her way of assimilating her avatar …”
Zoe went on, teasing, taunting, provoking the power on the verge of tearing her apart. “You don’t want … a human girl … do you? Too weak to enjoy … oh! … Make me worthy … Make me PURE!” Zoe cried out, being battered harder and harder by the nimbus of energy. Dark currents flowed into her every orifice. Her whole body seemed bruised by the pounding she was taking, on the verge of being beaten senseless by the savage strength of her totem.
The low rumble of thunder than had underlay all the sounds of the last few minutes became muffled, noticed only in its absence. “We’ve lost the tube mics.” A tech reported.
Randal simply glared at Ames. Enough was enough.
Ames drew out a key and unlocked a black metal cover, revealing the classic Big Red Button in the middle of a field of black and yellow warning stripes. One press would purge the tube. Three would arm a nuclear device under the building. Randal had required extreme measure be available in case something broke loose from the mythic landscape that could cause serious devastation.
Zoe closed her eyes and let out a final whispering croon unheard in the larger room, “… not just any lover, Dru. A swan. I’m a beautiful sexy swan …” And then her head slumped forward blacking out from the punishment she had endured.
Ames waited, hand poised to destroy his most eager pupil. ‘She is so beautiful. It would be such a waste’ he thought. She seemed serene now. At peace.
“Did it fail, Professor? Is this a new kind of burn up? Is she dead?”
“No. I don’t think so. This is all very strange. I’ve never seen such a powerful aura. It was vastly stronger than anything we’ve been able to tap into before …”
“Four thousand times, stronger, Professor?”
Ames looked at him sharply. “That seems like an oddly specific value,” With a flick of his 3D-mouse Ames summoned a graph on to the main monitor that was nothing Randal could understand but seemed to satisfy the Professor’s suspicions. Ames turned back Randal. “Very close to 4,000 times too strong. How did you know?”
“One of the monitor techs told me his gauges glitched, that the feather was giving off a field with a strength of forty-five. He also said God Almighty was only a 50.”
“God is probably closer to 70 …” He looked into the tank where Zoe’s body hung limp against the glass. Her thrashing had subsided and the majority of the nimbus seemed to have been absorbed into every inch of her flesh. “Forty-five…” He drew his hand back from the bright red palm-sized failsafe button, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “Well then, nevermind. We’re fucked. Because she did it, somehow.” He didn’t seem entirely displeased despite his words.
Randal was alarmed by Ames’s sudden surrender “Did what?”
“Somehow she made a token of Superman. She tapped into a myth of ultimate physical power.”
“Wait. You’re saying the new girl just vaulted a few thousand times above our best efforts in the last seven years?!” Randal looked back at the tube just in time to see her inhale the last of the blue-black wisps. She was no longer pinned to one wall. Instead, she floated freely, languidly in the midst of the tube, her mind treading water amid waves of exultation as her whole body became even more enticing … and if Ames were right, she was also becoming utterly indestructible and strong beyond all meaningful measurement.
“Congratulations, director. Meet Earth’s first Kryptonian.” Ames’s face took on a quizzical look. “… the seventh ritual of the night in the seventh year of the program. Fuck, we totally did this to ourselves, didn’t we?” He waved theatrically at the tube. “At this point, our only hope is to pray she’s grateful.”
“You can’t be serious?!”
“I’m completely serious. The chain of coincidences … We never had a chance to stop this. You’re looking at destiny. Her destiny. She told me what her totem was the very first day I met her.” He was openly admiring his protégé now.
Zoe roused slowly, sliding her hands up and down over herself outlining her literally mesmerizing curves. Swans were not scrawny creatures. Her pale skin was faultless, the recent bruises on her face and legs already completely healed. Then her hands went from gently touching her herself to gripping the taut cloth covering her inches-deep cleavage. With gentle but irresistible tugging she tore a vertical slit in the material right over her sternum, then spread the gap wider until the slash revealed the hollow at the base of her throat and the bottom gave winking glimpses of her belly button. More importantly, she was able to spread the sides wide until she had fully released the proud and heavy mounds of her up-thrust breasts. She had been full figured before, but now her mounds dominated her chest … and the room.
She leaned forward into the glass, but fully transformed breasts were not mashed to conform to the concave inner surface of the tube. Instead, a high pitched scraping could be heard through the inches of glass as her nipples gouged small tracks across the inner surface, shattered flecks of diamond-glass raining down like glitter. Seeing the damage, a mischievous grin spread across her movie-star face. She leaned one shoulder forward and began to scrape, writing on the glass using only her left breast. After a few awkward strokes, the chipped and scored inner surface of the tube read “FeeLs sO G0Od”. They couldn’t hear her, but they could see her laughing.
Zoe reached back and planted her hands against the glass behind her and pushed harder. Those magnificent globes still refused to deform. Instead, the armored glass began to spider-web around her nipples as if they were drill bits harder than diamonds. Men who should have screamed and ran instead stood staring in awe at the most perfect female body in the world.
Randal must have had one last premonition of disaster. He lunged at the purge button but it was too late. Zoe looked the director in the eye and flexed her whole body, really pushing for the first time. The armored glass tube that had contained so many supernatural melt-downs without a scratch bowed, then crackled, then burst. With a bone-rattling boom the room filled with crystalline shards of death and a smell like the promise of heaven, so powerful it overwhelmed even the sudden reek of blood.
- - - - -
Ames came to slowly, feeling wetness on his face.
Randal was dead, a hunk of glass buried in his chest. Ames himself was bleeding, but not dangerously so. He crawled to his console and levered himself up into his chair, looking through the empty space of the holographic display at a scene out of nightmare. The room was a wreck. Shredded equipment and torn bodies littered the space. Zoe floated over a huddled field of survivors near the broken bottle jagged ends of the transfer tube. Many of them were much more injured than him. Standing, kneeling or flat on their backs, they all stared up at her in a worshipful daze. They were entranced by her staggering beauty and the smell she gave off hit them like an aura of sexual need.
She darted across the room and snatched up the tech who had been injured before her transformation, a lucky survivor of later events. Or perhaps singularly unlucky …
“Chad, right? Its been a real honor having you ogle my tits for the last few months. So I hope you’ll appreciate that they’re going to be the last thing you ever see. You … are going love this …” She flew to one of the thick concrete pillars dotting the secured lab, both their feet dangling 3 feet above the floor. She floated a smidgeon higher making the comparison clear: each of her exposed tits were as large as his head. With a cold grin and colder precision, she lined up the long candy-pink nipple atop her left breast with his weak human lips and forced her way into his mouth. She was simultaneously soft and irresistible. Pliant but unbreakable. Her creamy white skin silky smooth at rest … and deadly in motion. She shivered, both her nipples swelling as he struggled and gagged. He bit down and her expression grew dreamy. He tried to turn his face away only to discover he had no such option in her vice-like grip. “You can’t imagine how BIG a turn-on this is for me Chad,” she murmured for his ears only, pushing herself deeper into his quivering mouth. She felt the stirring of orgasm as his jaw dislocated and sensed it would smash through her body like a tidal wave when it arrived. Her Kryptonian ecstasy would burn with a fire beyond all human limitations.
Defiant to the last, Chad’s knee lashed out, channeled upwards between her wide and welcoming thighs, delivering a savage blow against her groin that would flatten anyone, nuts or no. Instead, the vicious attack felt wonderful. Her lower lips were still soft and yielding … to a point. Further proof of his helplessness only increased her lust.
His struggles become more frantic, adding directly to her pleasure. “I’ve fantasized so many nights about what comes after I change. After I become what I was meant to be. How I would kill assholes like you using only my big … Kryptonian … tits …” With her other hand, she lifted her right breast so he could see its flawless heft and shape out of the corner of his eye. “I’ve cum so many times smashing eggs on my chest, pretending they were weak human skulls …” She kept creeping forward and her super hearing captured every crackle of his shattering teeth and the sharp snap of his jaw splitting just behind his chin. “Dozens. Hundreds of you stupid fucking animals splashed across my beautiful alien body …oh … like cheap …ahhh.. red paint … and now … huhhh! … it’s really … happening!” She started to cum. She was like a child with a cheap toy, stronger than she knew and too excited to care. She shoved her chest forward all at once bursting Chad’s skull like tomato on a windshield, driving both her breasts into the concrete pillar all the way up to her ribcage. Her gorgeous body began to shake and squirm in mid-air, the intensity of her climax like a bomb going off behind her eyes. Her gyrations ground impressions of her fatally unyielding breasts deep into the concrete while Chad’s headless and forgotten carcass slid to the floor below. Her first Kryptonian orgasm was a mix of impossible dreams made real and the gift of super-senses so sharp she that could feel every fleck of Chad’s skull splashed across her chest just like the fragments of eggshells in her secret sexual games. She basked in the exquisite, sticky reality of bits of bone harmlessly scraping her sensitive bare skin.
Craving more, her arms and legs wrapped around the pillar. For a moment it held as she bucked up and down against it like a mammoth stone cock. Then it crumbled like a cheap prop in her full-body embrace. Undaunted she scooped up hunks of stone, cupping them against her body with such colossal strength that droplets of dull red lava oozed out around the edges, the rocks heated to thousands of degrees by her groping. A similar smear of half-melted stone dribbled from her shapely thighs as she knelt on the shrinking concrete stump, burrowing into it with no more effort than spreading and clamping her knees. The warmth was pleasant and stone gave slightly more resistance than Chad’s stupid leering face, but now she wanted to feel a human crumple and die between her beautiful long thighs for comparison. Fortunately, she had an ample supply. The room was filled with human sheep dazed by her beauty both physical and chemical. Her Kryptonian arousal-scent was as highly evolved as her muscles. Those primitives that weren’t curled on the floor bleeding out had looked on with longing as she had focused her attention on Chad.
She straddled one of the humans laying on the floor, her knees beside his ribs, her toes bracketing his pelvis. He looked up at her longingly and she allowed the creature to run his hands over her flanks and then breasts as she slowly brought her legs together. She leaned forward until he could pleasure her with his tongue and again marveled at how soft she was and how sensitive. She moaned as he licked her and the room moaned with sympathy, her pheromones fizzing in their primitive brains. Her prey was so completely engrossed he didn’t even scream. She was so strong that she’s felt his bones cracking without the slightest impression of resistance. Like Chad’s feeble services, it was over too quick, leaving only a scratchy, bristly feeling along her thighs like a man’s beard … Oh, the broken tips of his ribs poking her flesh but not piercing it or event tearing her fishnets. Amusing, but not nearly as satisfying as when she had squeezed lovers without the benefit of Kryptonian strength. With a sigh she brought her legs the rest of the way together in a splash of red, finishing the job but wanting something a little more exotic now.
When she had first come out of the tube she had pursed her full, glossy lips and blew. No icicles. No hurricane. Disappointing. She didn’t have the classic superbreath it seemed – the universe still stood on ceremony when it came to little things like the tidal volume of her wonderfully endowed torso. Or maybe it was because that hadn’t appeared in the story she had leeched her abilities from. But even if her lungs could only hold so much … she could fill or empty them in the blink of an eye …
Inspired even after years of imagining herself with all this power, Zoe plucked another of the vacant-eyed sheep from the pack at random, stood him up and palmed the back of his skull. She inhaled completely, filling her lungs deep and lifting the enormous shelf of her bosom in a way that had the crowd around her writhing in lust. Seeing their reaction she finally looked down at herself … And nearly came again. Her twin mounds rose without regard for gravity, jutting at least ten inches from her pectorals. They weren’t just large, they perfectly complemented her figure, just one part of an artistic whole. Shaking her head in amazement, Zoe turned to the human still snared in her grasp. She leaned forward and kissed him, deeply, overwhelmingly, her full pink lips surrounding and supporting his weaker flesh. She almost laughed at his instant shuddering climax from no more than the taste of her lips … before she gave a sharp puff, emptying her lungs in the blink of an eye. His torso detonated in a shower of gore, a blast that could hardly be called ‘inflation’. Shards of rib and scraps of slick membranes slapped against her slender waist and slid off without residue. ‘The wonders of Kryptonian fabrics, I guess’ she thought, thankful her costume had absorbed some of the advanced properties of the clothing of her legendary idol.
She actually giggled as the creature’s ravaged and torn hips slumped to the blood-soaked floor. She was still holding its skull, the jaw and cheeks absent and a few vertebrae still dangling from the base. She was Just. So. Awesome.
Not wanting to waste such a well-balanced projectile, she flung her skull at the skull of a technician she had heard furtively trying to slip away towards the emergency exit for some time now. Her skull won. Or more precisely it erased his skull completely with a hollow boom and a shotgun spray across twelve feet of wall, a conical splash painted in reds and grays, speckled with white.
That and the shift in her mood set off a chain reaction of technicians trying to escape and her frolicking around the room massacring them in ever more gruesome displays of the immeasurable superiority of her uber-sexy body. She tried to give them a fair chance. Instead of punching or kicking them outright, she tried the smallest possible blows. She killed with her fingers. She killed with her toes. She licked one to death in a moment of playful horror, tearing him open from crotch to throat with a single stroke of her tongue. Some died untouched, killed by fear alone as her smell changed from lusty to predatory. In moments the herd of sheep had been culled. Butchered, really, only without even the value of livestock.
Her bloodlust fading, Zoe turned her attention to the non-living features of the room. She wrecked every trace of machinery involved in her ascension with cool, dispassionate efficiency. She rolled the delicate silver wiring that had unlocked the power in her decorated feather into a ball, then crushed it until spatters of molten silver made a puddle on the floor.
At last, she turned to professor Ames. Of course she had known he was there all along. Watching her with a mixture of awe and horror. She pulled the front of her black suit closed and the wonder fabric resealed itself, whole and seemingly new. This one singular mind was worthy of her respect. His regard made her want to cover herself as was befitting of civilized company.
“An interesting totem.” He announced casually, noting her whole demeanor shift from killer to conqueror.
“Two, I think. The swan-pattern is in here, just amplified. Not just a swan … more like the goddess of all swans.”
“Level 45. One of the techs saw it but didn’t report it.”
“Well, he paid the price, obviously.”
“Indeed. But that still doesn’t explain how you harnessed so much power.”
She demolished another stack of electronics using nothing but her dangling foot as she drifted closer. “Your ritual channels the power of myth. Comics are the modern mythology. And stories of Superman are amongst the most widely told tales in the entire world.”
“The ribbons on your token. Somehow they …?”
“You need to get out more, Professor. Did you see the last movie? Because half a billion other people did …”
“I give people superpowers. For real. Of course I saw it. Superman lived— You cannot have harvested his avatar.”
“I’m not channeling Superman, silly.” She ran her hands over her amazing curves, still encased in the black leotard and fishnet combo, flicking off a lingering bit of Chad’s skull. “All this … This is the energy that went up for grabs when Kal-El killed Dru-Zod. I’m sure it helped I intended to use those powers to go on killing humans. I felt such bloodlust coming out of the tube … Symmetry is a powerful force, don’t you think?
“General Zod’s given name. Most people don’t know he even has one.”
“And your name is Zoe Drew …”
“Dad was a huge geek. You can see why the General was one of my favorite characters growing up. And now we’re closer than ever … Half a billion people watched him die on the big screen. Leaving his legacy, his Kryptonian-ness floating around in the mythical fields waiting for his spiritual heir … Me.”
He clapped, slowly. “Well played, my dear. Very well played. So what happens to me?”
“Well, I can’t have you rebuilding all this. Even as powerful as I am, I’m not leaving the door open for competition. But, you did such a great job …” She did a full body shrug, highlighting her every curve and swelling in a single fluid twist that ended with her now covered breasts resting gently on his chest, her eyes looking deep into his. “… I’m feeling magnanimous.”
“I have a family. Children—”
“Don’t beg …”
“I’m not. My wife is long passed. My children are grown. My younger brother … I’m just asking that you don’t mangle my body. Put it somewhere they can have a nice funeral. Open casket. I’d like to leave them with some closure. They’ve never been privy to my work.”
“Sure, Doc. An accident. Peaceful. But fair trade: give me your notes. All of them. I’m going to want to curl up and read for a bit after I level this place.”
“You could keep me prisoner, I’m a lot more informative than my notes.”
“Tempting. But take it as a sign of respect that I’m afraid to let you live. Somehow, I’m sure YOU would be my kryptonite in the long run.”
“He was feared by a Goddess. Not the worst epitaph.”
“Better than Chad’s.”
“Yeah. He was kind of an asshole.” They chuckled together.
He quickly scratched out a few codes and passwords that would unlock his life’s work on one of the folders he always had with him. It would take super-senses to read his chicken scratch but she figured it out easily enough.
“No, but yes. Off to join the long list of scientists killed by their greatest creation.” He closed his eyes.
“Best of a generation, Doc.” Then her fingers touched his neck, and the world faded away.
- - - - -
The phone was heavily encrypted.
“As you suspected, sir: Randal’s group were dabbling in necromancy to improve their treatment. Flexible talent packages tapping iconic archetypes. Tailored power-sets based on animal imagery. All pretty cutting edge stuff. Seems like they were right on the verge of a major breakthrough, too. A massive increase in power level.” Zoe smiled to herself flexing a shapely arm that could rip through solid stone like it was tissue paper. “Another month and they might have been churning out Godlike-class operatives loyal only to Randal …” …Instead of just me she silently appended.
“You shut them down.” It wasn’t a question.
“Comprehensively, sir. And please pass along my compliments to the Procurement division. Tracking down the authentic practical effects costume I needed was key to breaking this case.” She’d only vandalized the movie prop a little while taking her trophy.
“You let them augment you, didn’t you, Agent Drew.”
She flinched but didn’t let it carry through to her voice. He was the boss because so very little got past him. How much did he know and how much was intuition? Had he placed a second agent in the lab? “Yes, sir. No way I was going to sanction an entire section without absolute proof.”
“Well, enjoy the perks, agent. Consider it a bonus for a job well done. Just realize that as an illegal augment, you may draw tougher assignments in the future. And your option to retire has been self-revoked.”
Clearly, he hadn’t seen what had happened in the lab then. “Oh, I will, sir. I look forward to new challenges in fact.” She idly squeezed one of her melon-sized breasts, her hand exerting forces that would have torn tank armor into strips. All that power was nothing more than a playful caress to her now. “I expect I’ll be very popular when people are moving furniture.” She hinted, downplaying her new strength by a factor of about a million. Besides, with her new looks, she was going to be popular everywhere. What had Randal called her? A ‘weapon of mass-seduction’. She’d read his lips from inside the tank – a basic skill for an operative who had joined the agency when she was 14. Infiltrating the rogue branch posing as fresh recruit had been a textbook play. ‘Mass-seduction’ … That sounded like entirely too much fun right now. She wondered where her horse-totem classmate had gotten off to. She had promised herself months ago she’d track him down and go for a ride …